Tempest
by Valerie Vancollie
Summary: Don felt Browne go for his gun and though he tried to twist away, he knew it was already too late. Drabble mini-series.
1. Storm

_**Tempest**_

_**by Valerie Vancollie**_

**valeriev84 at hotmail dot com  


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_Mini-Series_: Yep, another drabble mini-series just like _A Second Such Encounter_. As with that series, there will be four drabbles to this one, only they won't be 100 word ones.

_Characters_: Don, Billy Cooper

_Summary_: Don felt Browne go for his gun and though he tried to twist away, he knew it was already too late.

_Spoilers_: _Man Hunt_

_Note_: This series was written for the February rewind prompts at the _Numb3rs100_ LJ community.

_Disclaimer_: I do not own any of the _Numb3rs_ characters, items or situations. I only lay claim to the original aspects of the fic.

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1. _Storm_:

_Summary_: Don was just following a fugitive when it happened.

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The pain woke Don, a wicked, sharp spear that stabbed at his head, chest and abdomen. He groaned and tried to turn to relieve the pressure, only to cry out as a fresh wave of agony washed over him. Forcing his eyes open, his heart stopped as he found himself looking at a five hundred foot drop onto jagged rocks. A few shards of glass were all that remained of the windshield and he had a flash of the Ford unexpectedly lurching sideways.

The rest slowly returned as Don forced down the rising panic. He'd been chasing their fugitive, having caught sight of her while Billy had gone for supplies. He'd duly contacted Coop and started following Browne, they didn't want to lose her again. When she'd crossed the bridge onto the island, he'd finally dared hope that he'd trap her and he intended to park the car at the end of the bridge and wait for Coop.

The wind and rain swept in, letting Don know the storm hadn't lifted and he wondered how long he'd been out. The cold air roused him some more and he assessed his options. Waiting for backup was out of the question, which left only one option. He braced his legs on the dashboard and grabbed hold of the passenger seat before he released his seatbelt. His knees nearly buckled at the pain that lanced through his torso, but he managed to remain upright.

Carefully he climbed into the back, only the drop allowing him to move despite the pain. One of the passenger windows had been completely smashed and through it he could climb out onto what was left of the old bridge.

Don had just cleared the window when the railing he was holding onto groaned and started to give way.

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**Okay, stick up your hands if you're honestly surprised that Don is in trouble again in a fic of mine.  
I know, but it's so much fun!**


	2. Strike

_**Tempest**_

_**by Valerie Vancollie**_

**valeriev84 at hotmail dot com  


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_Note_: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed or put this series on story alert.

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2. _Strike_:

_Summary_: Out of the frying pan and into the fire?

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Don's sudden slide was brought to an abrupt and painful halt as a hand closed around his wrist. He swallowed the cry that threatened and looked up, startled, into the face of the fugitive he'd been tracking.

"Agent," Emily Browne stated, her voice and face strained.

The single word was enough to shock Don into action, knowing he couldn't afford to ponder whether or not she was going to purposefully drop him. He managed to grab hold of a wooden strut sticking out of the bottom of the bridge and braced his legs against the Ford, its ominous creaking spurring him on.

Instead of suddenly releasing him as he'd feared, Browne helped pull him upward so that when the Ford suddenly gave way with a loud screech of metal, he was already far enough onto the shattered side of the bridge to not go tumbling down after it. Knowing he shouldn't but completely unable to help himself, Don glanced down and watched the car crash onto the rocks, erupting into a large fireball that caused the surrounding salt water to hiss and spit. Scrambling up further, he felt Browne go for his gun and though he tried to twist away, he knew it was already too late.

As the gun left his holster, Don froze, body tense and eyes locked on her face. Browne met his eyes before she deliberately tossed the gun down after the Ford.

"I have no intention of hurting you, but I will not let you take me in."

"That would work far better if you didn't help me," Don couldn't help but point out.

"And become a cop killer? No, thanks."

Don studied her face for another second before nodding. Taking it for acceptance, Browne pulled him the rest of the way onto the bridge.

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**The prompt word comes into play here via the phrase _to strike a truce_.  
Up tomorrow is _Candles_, followed the day after by _Damages_.**


	3. Candles

_**Tempest**_

_**by Valerie Vancollie**_

**valeriev84 at hotmail dot com  


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_Note_: Just one more to go after this, namely _Damages_, and that wraps up the February rewind prompts.

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3. _Candles_:

_Summary_: Stuck on the island, Don finds himself dependant upon Browne.

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His injuries immobilized Don enough that he could do nothing but watch as Browne moved about the living room of the cabin that was the only building on the island. She'd helped him inside and lowered him onto the sofa before moving to check the cupboards to see what they had available to them.

"Well, we've got plenty of candles," Browne declared, pulling several large ones out and placing them on the coffee table along with a lighter.

Given how rapidly the sky was darkening, Don figured the storm would make them necessary long before sundown as the cabin's owner obviously didn't believe in electricity. He then dismissed the candles in favor of studying his companion. She'd been convicted of a high-end robbery during the course of which a security guard had been killed. Seeing that she'd saved his life and was continuing to help him, he was inclined to believe her claim that she'd had nothing to do with that and had been in another room at the time it had happened.

"Ah, here we are," Browne exclaimed as she found a first aid kit. "Let's get your shirt off."

Don's eyes narrowed as he tried to assess exactly what she had in mind. It seemed she simply wanted to help him and he could understand her desire for him not to die on her, but he couldn't bring himself to trust her.

"Honey, either you start taking it off, or I will," Browne stated. "I was an EMT and you could have broken ribs and a concussion."

Don resisted the impulse to try and handcuff her and moved instead to start taking off his shirt but halted at the sharp pain the action caused.

"Here, let me," Browne said, taking a pair of scissors to the material.

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**You gotta like Browne for her desire to take Donny's shirt off, no? Or is that just me?  
Helpless, Don's least favorite position to be in.**


	4. Damages

_**Tempest**_

_**by Valerie Vancollie**_

**valeriev84 at hotmail dot com  


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_Note_: Well, here you go, the last drabble in this mini-series. I hope you liked it!

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4. _Damages_:

_Summary_: The expected, and unexpected, consequences.

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"Hey, partner."

"Coop," Don replied, smiling. "Here to spring me?"

"Sorry, but no," Billy replied as he stepped into the room and approached the bed, wincing at the bandages wrapped around the younger man's head and peeking out of his gown. "The doctors want to keep you for a few days."

"You're kidding," Don said in disbelief. "I wasn't hurt that badly, just a concussion, a few cracked ribs and a single broken one."

"Not to mention a ton of bruising and chaff wounds," Billy added. "All of which could have been a hell of a lot worse if Browne hadn't administered treatment at the cabin."

"Yeah," Don admitted, the knowledge of how easily he could have sent his broken rib into his lungs disturbing him. "Did you manage to catch her?"

"No. We found the dingy, but there's no trace of her."

"She's good at that."

"They'll find her," Billy stated confidently. "It's just a matter of time."

"You're not going after her?"

"Not allowed to. I'm on a week of forced downtime."

"What? Why?"

"Psychological recovery or some such bullshit," Billy replied, scowling darkly at the floor.

"Psychological?" Don repeated, uncomprehendingly, but sensing something wasn't quite right with his friend.

"Yeah. I may have reacted in an... uh... slightly worrying manner when we arrived at the remains of the bridge and saw the wreckage."

Don sucked in a sudden breath as he realized what that must have looked like. He tried to imagine what he'd have felt if their roles were reversed and he'd thought Billy had been in the car. The mere thought chilled him to the bone and he could see the ghost of a similar anguish in Billy's eyes when the redhead finally met his eyes. Neither of them said anything, but words weren't necessary.

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**I just couldn't help having Billy make an appearance. I really do love his character.  
Please let me know what you thought of this mini-series!**


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